Free Mob Wedding Mayhem by Ally Gray

asked, pointing to the chairs that lined the walls. “Isn’t that a strange number of chairs? Like one’s missing?”
    “That’s your clue?” she demanded sarcastically, before droning, “’Your honor, it’s an open and shut case. There were only three chairs in his office!’ Stop being such a florist, I swear!”
    “What does my job have to do with it? Oh, is that a gay joke? How can you even say that, you know my wife!”
    “Of course it’s not a gay joke, don’t be ugly! I meant that florists like things in nice even numbers! You’re the one who brought up—”
    A sound outside the door made them freeze, their bickering brought on by nerves coming to a screeching halt. It took a moment to realize it was only Jorge coughing, and they waited for a moment longer in case that was the signal. When it was safe, they stood straighter and looked around.
    “Okay, forget the gun shot. Like you’ve said all along, it may not have been anything. Let’s focus on the guy in the ugly golf pants,” Stacy said, walking over the boss’ desk and sitting in his leather chair. She turned to his computer and looked up the name of the older man that Todd the manager had said. “Hmm, look at this.”
    Jeremiah came around behind the desk and stood behind her. “He reported his locker had been broken into last week, and some of his clothes were missing?”
    “Right. Todd said there were only a handful of people who still wore the traditional knee-length pants. And the good doctor’s locker was broken into. But look here. The box that says security filed a report with the police isn’t checked.”
    “So? It was only last week, maybe they haven’t gotten around to it. And have you seen those pants? Who in their right minds would help get them back?” Jeremiah shuddered.
    “No, I’m thinking something else. What if security didn’t call the police because it was an inside job!” Stacy’s eyes grew wider at her own suggestion.
    “Seriously? An inside job? What, like, the Plaid Boys and they’re tasteless crime spree?”
    “Stop making jokes! I mean it, what if someone working for Mr. D’Argenzio got the pants out of Dr. Pierce’s locker to make it look like Joey was a thief? They got him all dressed up, they played a few holes of nighttime golf, and then they killed him and drowned him.”
    “It’s a theory, I suppose,” Jeremiah admitted, shrugging his shoulders and looking further at the screen. “It would explain why he was wearing that, but not why he couldn’t wear his own clothes.”
    “Maybe they were trying to win him over, make him think they were on his side. So one of the men got an outfit out of the doctor’s locker—”
    “I think they call it a uniform when it’s for a sport,” Jeremiah interrupted.
    “Whatever. They got the clothes and then lured him out to his death!” Both Stacy and Jeremiah stared at the screen for a moment as if it contained answers they needed, but then shivered and turned away. “You know what, we’ve got to hurry and we still don’t know anything more than we did before. You keep looking around, and I’m going to try to call this aunt again.” She pulled the slip of paper with the phone number out of her purse and dialed, then gasped when she heard a woman screaming through the phone.
    “Nicky! Thank god you called, there was this lady who called late last night, asking for Cat—”
    “Hello?” Stacy asked. “I think I’m the lady who called so late.”
    “What’s going on?” the woman asked after an ominous pause. Stacy wondered how long it took to get wiretapping started, envisioning the cranky-sounding woman wearing a headset and speaking into a microphone. “Where’s Nick?”
    “Well, he’s in a meeting at the moment. I am aware that Caterina is not in Europe, and I assure you that’s none of our concern. Her father actually let me use his office phone so you would know that everything is completely legit.” She cringed at her own use of